Across the Distance
by ByTheAngelIsThatWillHerondale
Summary: 1914. Emma Carstairs is a British socitalite engaged to Jaime Rosales. Despite her engagement, she harbors secret feelings for Julian Blackthorn, the family servant. She knows a relationship between her and Julian would be impossible, but can she find away to get what her heat truly desires? AH, AU. Blackstairs.
1. Reality

_Hello all! So the inspiration for this fic actually came to me in a dream (yes, literally). I told my friend Amanda (WithPaperAndPen if you want to read her other stories) about it and we decided to write a collaborative fanfiction around the idea. All the odd chapters will be written by me and all even chapters will be written by Amanda. The entire story will be posted on this account. Enjoy the first chapter!_

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"Mother, I can't possibly wear this."

Cordelia Carstairs merely smiled lovingly. "Emma, it's your father's and my gift to you. Please, I want you to wear it tonight at the ball," she said.

Emma sighed, running a hand over the soft fabric of the stunning new dress her mother had bought her. She didn't know how she could; it was almost too pretty to put on. Especially when she was anything but excited for her engagement party tonight. But over the years, if there was one thing Emma had learned to do, it was to put on a smile and act happy. So smile she would, and hopefully the night wouldn't seem so daunting.

Cordelia came and rested a hand on Emma's shoulder. "Sweetheart, you will look beautiful tonight. I'm so proud of you," she murmured. "Jaime is a lucky man."

Emma's heart sunk at the mention of her fiancé. Jaime Rosales was the son of her father's business partner, and quite an eligible man for Emma to wed. The Rosales family was just as rich as the Carstairs, if not more so. It hadn't mattered that Jaime was five years older than Emma; her father had agreed to the betrothal nonetheless.

It wasn't that Jaime was horrible to look at; in fact, quite the opposite was true. Emma found him handsome enough, but his personality left something to be desired. He was flashy and false; everything he said and did seemed to come across as insincere or egotistical.

"Will you send up Helen to help me prepare for the ball? I'd like to get started on my hair," Emma said, turning to face her mother. "And thank you. This dress is stunning; it must have cost a fortune!"

Cordelia grinned, the crinkles in her eyes appearing. "It's no bother, Emma. Enjoy this night, darling. It will be one you'll remember for the rest of your life."

Patting her cheek, Cordelia exited the room.

Emma swallowed and sank into her bed, clutching the dress to her chest. A few moment later, there was a knock, and Helen appeared.

"Helen!" Emma sat up quickly and smiled. "Thank goodness you're here. I have absolutely no idea how to wear my hair tonight." Emma pouted.

Helen gently took the dress from Emma's hands and held it up, studying it carefully. "I think I know just what to do, Em," she said, and placed the dress back on the bed. "Come to the vanity so I can fix you up," Helen requested.

Emma dutifully sat, preparing herself to be relatively motionless for the next hour.

**. . .**

As Emma studied her reflection in her full length mirror, she couldn't help but let out a sigh. "Oh Helen, you've outdone yourself this time," she mused.

Helen laughed. "Miss Emma, it isn't me. You just keep getting prettier."

Emma blushed and turned from the mirror. She wrung her hands nervously. "I guess it's time for me to go, yes?"

"Yes, Miss Emma. You'll be just fine, darling. I am sure you'll be in the spotlight the whole evening."

"Thats just what I'm afraid of," Emma mumbled, but Helen didn't seem to hear her. She merely opened the door and waved Emma out.

As she descended the grand staircase, all eyes were on her. Most of the guests had already arrived, sipping champagne and gossipping quietly, but all conversation halted when Emma appeared.

She spotted Jaime at the foot of the stairs, ready to take her arm and lead her through the crowd and into the ballroom. She swallowed nervously, but plastered a pleasant expression on her face. Trying to behave with propriety was hard when she could barely take a few steps without shaking.

Jaime took her arm and smiled at the crowd, speaking before she could. "We would like to thank everyone for attending. Miss Carstairs and I are very pleased to celebrate our engagement with you all this evening. Now if we could all proceed to the ballroom," he smiled and gestured to the massive double doors.

The guests surged forward as the doors opened. Emma glimpsed a peak at the ballroom and found it lavishly decorated for the occasion. She barely registered Jaime leading her through the doors.

Both familiar and unfamiliar faces greeted and congratulated her. She thanked all of them graciously, but soon, people blurred together in her mind and she felt herself grow tired of all the attention. Jaime was a constant presence at her side, and although he was not bothering her, she did wish to escape him at some point in the night.

When Cristina Rosales, Jaime's younger sister, made her way over to her, Emma thanked God. It was a perfect opportunity to excuse herself politely. Over the weeks, the two had become fast friends. It was a relief to see her smiling face.

"Emma, there you are! I was beginning to think I'd never find you in this crowd," Cristina jested.

Emma smiled genuinely at her. "Its good to see you, Cristina," she acknowledged. Turning to her fiancé, she said, "If you would kindly excuse me, Jaime, I think I'll have some punch with your sister."

Something like a glare appeared on his face, but it was gone and replaced with a smile before Emma could give any thought to it. "Of course, dear. I'll be waiting when you want to start dancing."

She detached herself from her arm for the first time that night and breathed out a sigh. Cristina chuckled at her expression. "I had to save you from my brother; you looked positively miserable!"

Emma cringed. "Was I really that transparent?"

Cristina merely smiled knowingly.

"I thought I was doing well," Emma sighed, discouraged.

"Oh Emma, let's just focus on enjoying the night. Come on, do you see any handsome strangers for me to marry?" Cristina whispered playfully.

Emma grinned slyly and made a show of turning slowly around the room, scanning the crowd. Cristina laughed, and Emma joined, but her laughter soon faded as her eyes landed on one man she didn't expect to see.

Julian Blackthorn.

He was serving a young woman slightly older than Emma, courteously offering her something to eat from the silver platter he was balancing with ease. She graciously took an _hors d'oeuvre _from the tray and smiled flirtatiously at him. Emma felt her stomach clench with jealousy. He smiled politely at the woman, but soon moved on and continued his job professionally. She had always admired that about him.

Julian had been the object of her secret affections for nearly five years. They had been childhood friends and playmates, being born only a few months apart. She still remembered those days as if they were yesterday. She didn't know if she would ever forget the feeling of resting her head chastely on his stomach, looking up into the cloudy blue sky on a warm summer day. Seeing how his cute boyish features had matured into a strikingly handsome man over the last few years made her heart warm. She yearned to tell him how she felt, but what use would that be? She was engaged, and besides, he probably didn't even remember her all these years later.

Maneuvering between guests, he moved through the crowd with a grace that she didn't think was possible. With a start, she realized he was heading in her direction. Looking up at his face, she blushed as they locked eyes.

"Would the lady of the evening like something to eat or drink?" Julian asked, a playful note in his tone that was only meant for her to hear.

Emma's heart stuttered. "I'll have some punch, please," she managed to say.

Julian smiled and her blush deepened. "I'll be right back with that, Miss Carstairs."

As he walked away, Cristina turned to Emma with wide eyes.

"_What was that?"_ she whispered, albeit loudly.

"What was what?" Emma replied coolly, feigning indifference.

Cristina shot her a look. "Don't play dumb with me, Emma. Do you fancy him?"

Emma shook her head and laughed, trying desperately to cover up her secret. "Ha! No, of course not! Him? He's just a footman. Why on Earth would I fancy him?"

Raising her eyebrows, Cristina smirked knowingly. "Emma Carstairs, you are a terrible liar. But I'll let this one slide. It's obviously just a petty crush. You _are_ engaged to my brother."

Emma almost breathed a sigh relief, but she noticed Julian making his way back to her, two glasses of punch in both his hands.

"I brought a glass for Miss Rosales as well," Julian said, handing a glass to Cristina. "And for you, Miss Carstairs." Their hands brushed as she took the drink from him, making her shiver.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to attend to other guests. Miss Rosales, Miss Carstairs," he said, giving a small bow to both women. Turning on his heel, he disappeared into the crowd.

"There you are, sweetheart!" came a voice from behind her. She turned to see Jaime striding up to her, immediately hugging her to his side. "We don't want to be separated for too long! What will the guests think? This _is_ our engagement party."

Emma forced a playful smile, looking up at Jaime's face. "A girl has to get away some time, don't you think?"

He didn't respond, but his gaze darkened and she felt his fingers dig harder into her arm. Swallowing a hint of worry, she allowed him to lead her back into the crowd. She looked around for Cristina, but she had disappeared.

The rest of the night, Emma's mind wandered. She couldn't shake the feeling of Jaime's clammy fingers dragging her away, or the image of Julian's handsome face smiling back at her.

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_Tell us what you think; leave a review! Thanks for reading!_


	2. Reminiscent

_Hey hey, it's Amanda (WithPaperAndPen) here with chapter 2! Thank you so much for your kind reviews - they really make Cate and I happy! I hope my chapter lives up the precedent Cate has set!_

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Emma blinked sleepily at her reflection in the vanity mirror as she struggled to wake up, still exhausted from last night's party. Even after the festivities had ended, she had found it difficult to fall asleep, torn between memories of Jamie's overly possessive behavior and the images of Julian Blackthorn dancing through her head.

_Julian_. His name evoked so many fond memories of her childhood. His parents had been staff members when Emma was a little girl, and she and Julian would spend many hours together roaming the grounds of the large Carstairs estate. Emma, a lonely only child, was practically raised alongside Julian and his older siblings, Helen and Mark. Helen was quite a few years older than Emma, and she had been Emma's caretaker for as long as Emma could remember. Helen was in charge of Emma's education, grooming, and well-being, and Emma preferred Helen's wisdom and teaching over her own mother's. Emma's mother, while well-meaning, wanted Emma to be the perfect image of a proper society girl, an image that Emma knew she could never uphold. Emma wanted to be a young lady – really, she did – but all she really wanted to do was please her parents. Her mother and father had planned out her future since she was a little girl, and while she used to find peace and comfort in that fact, now she was itching to buck the rules of her family and do something extraordinary.

Emma smiled as she reached for her hairbrush, untangling the blonde hair that fell haphazardly over her shoulders. She remembered all the endless days she and Julian had spent together when they were younger. They would skip out on lessons and run amok on the expansive grounds of the Carstairs's climbed trees, swam in the pond, hunted for frogs and made flower crowns, not coming home until late at night. They were always scolded by Helen, but Emma could tell that she didn't really mind. There had been many, many times when the two of them had gotten into trouble (one of the most memorable times being when Emma was attacked by a stray dog and Julian had to carry her halfway back to the house), but their narrow escapes from danger only added to their feeling of invincibility. Even now, Emma would often forsake violin practice or dance lessons in favor of wandering the grounds, although it was never the same after Julian left.

Julian's father had passed away when Julian was twelve years old, and Julian's family (barring Helen, who had elected to stay behind) moved away soon after. Emma didn't see or hear from Julian for seven years, until one rainy night three years ago, when Julian knocked on their door and asked Emma's father if there was still a position of employment open, as he and his family had nowhere else to go. Emma's father, remembering how hard Julian's father had worked, had given Julian a job, hence his appearance at the party last night.

Seeing her Julian so terribly grown-up made her heart skip a beat. She had never seen him in such fancy attire and it made her want to smile and hide from him all at the same time. She still remembered one of the last times she and Julian had been together. It was at a party on the night of Emma's twelfth birthday. Her parents had insisted on having a ball to celebrate their daughter's special day, but Emma was more concerned with spending time with Julian, who was not allowed at the party.

_Julian handed Emma a pastry that he had swiped from a passing waiter's tray, taking a bite of his own. "Why do people even enjoy these parties?" He grumbled around a mouthful of crumbs. "They're so boring!"_

_Emma shoved him in the shoulder. "At least you're not supposed to be the woman of the hour. You just get to hide behind curtains and observe. I have to dance with snobs and make small talk." She ignored the nagging voice in her head that scolded her for her un-ladylike choice of words. Julian didn't seem bothered by them at all, she rationalized._

"_Dancing is stupid." Julian stated. "All you really do is shuffle your feet around."_

"_Do you even know how to dance?" Emma asked, rolling her eyes. Julian's eyes flicked downward for a moment and Emma raised her eyebrows. "You don't!" She laughed. "Come on!" She grabbed her best friend's wrist and pulled him out a side door into the mercifully empty library._

"_Stand facing me." Emma instructed, taking Julian by the shoulders and moving him into the proper position. "Put your right hand on my waist and take my hand with your left." Julian's hand rested on her waist, his long fingers brushing against the smooth material of her light pink dress. Emma ignored the butterflies in her stomach and lifted her head, meeting his eyes. "Now take two steps forward, leading with your left foot, and then one step back." She led Julian for a few steps, keeping their dance in time with the faint waltz music emanating from the ballroom. "Now you lead." She instructed him. Julian looked down at his feet and hesitantly began to move. Emma let him lead her, and discovered that he had actually gotten the hang of waltzing. "Good job, Jules!" She exclaimed, smiling up at him._

"_Thanks." He mumbled, his face flushing red. She was about to ask what was wrong when she became acutely aware of how close they were standing to one another. His hand was on the small of her back and their hands were interlocked. Emma's face turned pink as well, but neither of them made a move away from the other. Emma caught a glimpse of them in the mirror over the fireplace mantel and her heart sank. She, with her life of dances and lessons and fancy dresses, could never be with someone like Julian._

"_I- I should go." Julian stammered out, releasing Emma's hand and stepping back. Emma took a deep breath, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear._

"_I should get back." She gestured helplessly. Julian nodded and fled the room, leaving Emma wondering if anything would ever be the same between the two of them again._

Now, Emma realized that that was the day she realized she had feelings for Julian. It was hard not to notice him after that. Every smile he gave her, every time he hugged her, and every time he showed her a painting or a drawing of his only caused her to fall for him more. She kept telling herself that they could never be together, but her head and heart refused to reconcile. Then, he was gone, and she thought that finally her life could be normal. She would marry Jaime Rosales, be a dutiful wife and mother, and everything would be the way it was supposed to be.

_But that's not what you want_, said the nagging voice in her head. Emma huffed a sigh and began to get dressed. She didn't love Jaime, not really, and it had been bothering her for a long time. Wasn't the whole point of marriage to be with someone you love forever?

"That is the goal, yes." Helen said, causing Emma to jump. "I'm sorry, Miss Emma – I didn't mean to startle you."

Emma didn't realize she was speaking aloud, but she was glad to possibly have Helen's advice on the matter. "Helen, what would you do if you weren't in love with the person you were engaged to marry?" Helen thought about that for a moment as she set out a dress for Emma to wear.

"I think that I would have to be honest with myself. I would tell my parents how I feel, and then I would tell my fiancé how I feel."

"But what if your parents refuse to let you fall in love with anyone else?" Emma asked. Helen smiled at the younger girl.

"That's where you're wrong, Emma. No one can _allow_ you to fall in love with anyone. It just happens." Emma noticed a little smile on Helen's face as she said that.

"Have you met someone?" Emma asked incredulously. Helen laughed.

"I think that's beside the point, Miss Emma. Get dressed, then come downstairs for your breakfast." Emma obediently nodded, but stopped Helen as she was about to leave the room.

"Helen," she began, "you called me Emma. Not 'Miss Emma', just 'Emma'."

Helen smiled. "Sometimes I forget my place. You have always seemed as a little sister to me." A warm feeling grew in Emma's chest.

"Thank you." She whispered. Helen nodded and closed the door. Emma dressed quickly and dashed downstairs. She was going to talk to Julian today.

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_Review!_


	3. Secrets Spilled

_Hey everyone! I'm back with chapter 3! Hope you like this one, it's one of my favorites :)_

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Closing her eyes, Emma cringed as she felt the air being squeezed out of her. The seamstress seemed to have no regard for comfort; she was pulling the bodice way too tight. _I suppose that's the point of a bodice,_ she mused in her head.

Her mission to find Julian had been interrupted by her mother, claiming that she had a wedding dress fitting this morning. Here she was, irritated and on edge. To make matters worse, it was becoming increasingly harder and harder to breathe.

The seamstress finally stepped back, smiling faintly as she stepped back and took in Emma. Cordelia gasped from her seat in the corner.

"Oh, Emma…" she trailed off. Dabbing at the corner of her eyes, she whispered, "You look stunning, dear."

Emma turned to the full length mirror. The dress was a delicate shade of ivory, bringing out the natural blush in her cheeks. She had to agree, the dress _did_ look beautiful. Lace sleeves flared to her fingers, and the smooth satin of the gown draped down into an elegant train in the back. The high collar accentuated her aristocratic neck.

She stood, staring at her reflection, waiting for a flutter of excitement to rise up inside her. Instead, all she felt was a sinking sense of dread. When she turned to glance at her mother's teary face, she felt a pang of guilt on top of the trepidation.

"Oh, in the meantime, m'lady, your specially ordered dress from Paris came today." the seamstress commented.

"Well, let's see it then!" Cordelia clapped her hands together excitedly.

As soon as Emma saw the dress, her heart stopped. It was a deep red, and the bodice was beaded intricately. The bottom ruched into a floor-length flare, and more beadwork ran along the bottom, holding the ruching in place.

_This_ was the dress she felt something in. She could picture herself, happily married, dancing at an evening ball in the arms of her husband. Except for one small detail.

She was picturing herself in Julian's arms.

"Emma?" she was jolted back to the present.

"Yes?" she straightened herself, trying to seem more alert.

"What do you think of the dress?" he mother inquired, raising one eyebrow.

Emma swallowed. "It's the most beautiful dress I've ever worn. I love it," her voice barely above a whisper, trying to conceal the knot forming in her throat.

She turned away, pretending to inspect the gown closer, but instead, she wiped a stray tear forming under her eye.

"Emma darling, why are you crying?" her mother rushed over, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I'm just- I'm just excited for the wedding," she lied.

"Oh, sweetheart," crooned Cordelia, squeezing Emma in a hug. "Everything will be perfect. I promise."

Emma nodded, but she knew those words were anything but the truth.

**. . .**

"Helen!" Emma stopped and waved her down. "Maybe you can help me. Do you know where Julian is?"

Helen gave her a wry look. "May I ask why?"

Emma bit her lip. "I just, uh, needed to, er, ask him something."

Helen frowned. "Emma, why do you really need to see my brother?"

She paused, not knowing exactly what to tell Helen. She knew she could trust her, but she had never told anyone of her feelings.

As if reading her thoughts, Helen's expression softened. "You can tell me, Emma. I promise, whatever you tell me will not be shared."

Shaking, Emma motioned Helen into the nearest empty guest bedroom. She closed the door quietly and locked it, taking every precaution that her secret would remain safe. She sank down on the bed, heart pounding.

Sighing, she decided to get the worst of it out right away. "I've had feelings for Julian since I was twelve years old," she whispered, her cheeks burning.

Helen came to sit on the bed next to her, wrapping a consoling arm around Emma. "Does Julian know of these feelings?"

Emma shook her head. "Of course not. How could I tell him? It doesn't matter anyway. I need to stop thinking about him, because I'm getting married in only a few months. A future with him isn't possible."

"Oh, Emma," Helen breathed. There was a pregnant pause, and then Helen spoke. "I hesitate to say this, but I think," she sighed. "I think you two would make a beautiful match. I know that Julian cares about you. All these years later, I don't think he ever forgot the times you played together as children. I can't say for sure that he returns your romantic feelings for him, but-"

"I know," Emma said. "Like I said, it doesn't matter anyways. I need to be a devoted wife to Jaime. I need to forget about anything that could be with Julian."

Helen smiled wistfully. "What happened to wanting to talk to him just now?"

"Maybe I shouldn't, considering the circumstances."

"Miss Emma, I think that you should. Even being friends is better than not having him in your life at all."

Emma nodded and stood, feeling more resolute in her decision. On a whim, she turned and hugged Helen, whispering a thank you into her shoulder.

"It's no bother, Miss Emma," she murmured softly. Thank _you _for telling me."

Emma exited the room, leaving Helen to her work. She still didn't know where to find Julian, but she was determined. The first place to start was the servant's quarters.

Descending the stairs, she looked around curiously. Emma hadn't been down in here in quite some time, so the layout was rusty in her brain. All around her, people were busy; nobody was still for more than a few seconds.

Not wanting to ask someone and arouse suspicions, she tried to walk with confidence. Peeking into every room, she finally found Julian standing over a large table polishing silverware.

Stepping into the doorway, she cleared her throat, suddenly feeling out of place. Julian's head whipped up, and his eyes widened when he saw it was her.

"Miss Carstairs," he said, wiping his his hands on a rag. "Is there some way I can be of service to you?"

"I-" Emma started. "I suppose I just was checking up on the progress of the day's chores." Now that she thought about it, she didn't really know why she come down here. What did she think she was going to say to him?

"I see," Julian said, a smile tugging at his mouth. She could tell he didn't believe her.

Cursing herself for her stupidity, she blurted, "Mr. Rosales is coming tonight, and he expects only the best. I just thought that I would make sure all is running smoothly so that he will not be displeased."

Julian's gaze darkened at the mention of Jaime, but he kept his expression neutral. Turning back to his work, he asked, "And how is your engagement to Mr. Rosales faring, Miss Carstairs?"

"Just fine, if you must know, _Mr. Blackthorn_," she fired back.

Julian smirked, an infuriating grin that made her want to simultaneously hit him and kiss him. _Kiss him? Emma, be sensible!_ She scolded herself.

"Is that all, Miss Carstairs?"

Emma swallowed. "Yes, I suppose that is all."

She turned to leave, but paused when she heard Julian call her name.

"Emma? I hope that you're happy with Mr. Rosales. It would upset me if you were unhappy, m'lady."

Slowly, she turned around, her heart swelling at his words.

"I am as happy as I can be, under the circumstances," she murmured quietly.

"That is all I can wish for, m'lady." He nodded once, his gaze smouldering into her.

Bowing her head, she fled the room, before he could see anymore of her vulnerable side.

**. . .**

"Emma, your new dress looks stunning! Where is it from?" Mrs. Rosales asked as Emma took her seat at the table next to Jaime.

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Rosales. It is a new design from Paris." Emma replied, smiling.

"You do look quite beautiful tonight, dear," Jaime interjected, kissing her lightly on the hand. "You _always_ look beautiful, sweetheart."

Emma tried not to cringe at his excessive terms of endearment for her. She forced a pleasant look on her face as he smiled lovingly at her. Feeling her heart sink, she wondered, not for the first time, why she couldn't bring herself to return his feelings. Would she really live her entire life pretending? She didn't see much of a choice at this point in the engagement.

Cordelia Carstairs strode regally down the stairs and greeted her guests with a flurry of her fingers. She smiled at Emma as, ever so gracefully, she sank into her plush chair. Pecking her husband on the cheek, she beamed even more as soon as she saw Jaime and Emma sitting together.

"Oh, Emma, aren't you just absolutely radiant tonight! I'm so glad I convinced you to order that dress. It fits you like a glove," her mother gushed.

"Thank you, mother," Emma blushed.

Her blush intensified involuntarily when Julian stepped into the room, carrying a bottle of vintage wine. She forced her eyes to stay trained on the plate in front of her; if she didn't, she knew she would be staring at Julian looking all too handsome in a neat tuxedo. As Julian began pouring wine in her father's glass, she noticed his hand shaking. Emma's heart ached to comfort him, to tell him that he didn't have to be nervous in front of her family. But deep down, she knew that he _should_ be nervous. He was the one serving them; they were not equals, no matter how much she wished they were. As he continued to pour the wine, his hands never ceased their shaking. Nobody seemed to notice, for they were too caught up in the gossip to pay attention to the lowly footman.

When he reached Emma's glass, she leaned back in her seat to give him more space to pour. Her heart was hammering at his proximity to her, but she cleared her throat gently and forced herself not to think about it. He leaned in and tipped the bottle to pour, but his hands were trembling so much that he completely missed the glass.

In his haste to save the bottle from spilling on the fine linen tablecloth, he lurched forward. The bottle toppled into Emma's lap, staining her new dress and soaking her lap. Emma faintly registered the audible gasps from the guests at the table, but all she could see was Julian's shocked and embarrassed face as he stared at what he had done.

"I-I- I'm so sorry, Miss Carstairs, it was an accident, I will fetch some cloths to clean up the mess, or…" Julian rambled, trying desperately to correct his colossal error.

Emma bit her lip, exhaling. "It's quite alright, Mr. Blackthorn. My apologies, everyone, but I must excuse myself to change into more suitable clothing for dinner. Mr. Blackthorn, I will accompany you back to the servant's quarters, to insure that you do not cause any more problems," she stated, trying to make her voice as authoritative as possible.

The worst part was that Julian looked legitimately terrified, which broke her heart. She had to find a way to tell him that she wasn't actually upset with him. Her parents might be, but she would deal with that later. She stood, and strode out of the room, Julian trailing silently behind her. Waiting until they were out of earshot, Emma turned to Julian and pulled him to the corner of the hallway.

"Julian," she whispered, looking up into his blue-green eyes. "I'm not angry with you. Not at all."

He frowned. "W-What? You aren't?"

Emma shook her head. "Julian, I could see your hands shaking. You were obviously extremely nervous, and I can't hold that against you. Unfortunately, my parents will." She sighed.

He buried his face in his hands, letting out a shaky breath. "I've really messed it up this time, haven't I? They're going to fire me and we'll have nowhere to go," he breathed, near tears. Emma had never seen him so upset.

She placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Jules," she said, using her old childhood nickname for him, "I won't let that happen. I promise. I know you have siblings to take care of, and I would never let them suffer like that."

Their eyes met, and before she knew what she was doing, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. His arms snaked around her waist, and they stood like that for a moment. She inhaled, smelling soap and clove cigarettes on him, an odd but suiting combination. Closing her eyes, she imagined a world where she could do this every day without consequences. She clutched him tighter, hoping she could communicate all of her feelings into a touch. She felt him bury his face in her hair, and an she felt unfamiliar tightening in her chest. It was when that she felt his tears drip down her neck that she finally lost it.

Her sobs broke free, sudden and unrelenting. Hot, fat tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to smother her cries. Julian rubbed her back comfortingly. They both wept, for the lives they had been dealt and for the life they could have had, together.

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_How's that for some blackstairs feels?_

_Note: would you guys like a chapter from Julian's POV? _

_Also, do you think Emma and Julian's relationship is moving too fast? Let us know in a __**review!**_


	4. Feelings

_A/N: Hey! Amanda here! We received a review saying they wanted Julian's POV, so after much begging on my part (ask Cate), I was allowed to write Julian's thoughts during and after the events of chapter 3, so y'all can have that in addition to chapter 4! I apologize for its length, but it was kinda necessary to the story! Anyway I hope you enjoy, and don't forget to leave us reviews!_

_Julian's POV_

Julian watched Emma leave the room with a swish of her skirt. He could almost imagine the stubborn blonde stalking up the stairs and storming to her room, her brown eyes burning with whatever emotion she was trying so hard to hide. Just the sight of her standing in the doorway of the servant's quarters was enough to make his fingers itch for his paints. There was something about the combination of the colors of her dress and her skin and her eyes that made the urge almost irresistible. When they were younger, Emma was willing to sit and let him paint her, but he doubted that he would be allowed to do that now that they were older and the roles of society demanded more.

Despite what she said, Emma hadn't come downstairs to check on the progress of the household chores, and Julian knew it. There was something that she wanted to say or something she wanted to do, only she was too afraid. Julian knew that expression well – when they were children, he was the only one who could coax her true feelings out from underneath the mask she always wore. In the back of his mind, Julian hoped that maybe she had come down to see him, to talk to him again as if they were friends again, but he knew that couldn't possibly be the case. They were too different now to ever rekindle the friendship they once had.

After a kind but stern reprimand from the elderly cook, Julian's hands busied themselves again with the polishing cloth, but his mind was million miles away. He was past hiding that he was in love with Emma – any man who thought about a woman this much could only have one explanation. He remembered the day he realized his feelings for her – when he danced with her in the library during her twelfth birthday ball. By now, he had every second of that encounter memorized simply from replaying it in his head over and over again every day for the past five years. She was just as beautiful then as she was now, but to Julian, her real beauty lay in her personality. She was stronger than any man, and he hoped that Jamie Rosales knew that.

His hand tightened on the platter he was polishing. Rosales. Anyone who knew Emma could see that she disliked her engagement, but Julian knew all too well that Emma's drive to please her parents would always outweigh anything else she may desire. Still, Julian couldn't deny that it stung a little to see Emma lie to him about her feelings so blatantly. He wondered why she was unhappy with Jamie. He was a good match – capable, wealthy, and affluent – and he would be able to provide for Emma. Was it because Emma didn't want him? A knot settled in Julian's stomach as a hidden thought floated to the surface.

_I wish she was unhappy because she wants me instead_.

Immediately, Julian chastised himself for even daring to think something so bold. As if Emma could ever love him! He was a servant, and it was his job to smile and be polite and try as hard as he could to be happy for Emma and her fiancé, no matter how much he wished he was in Jamie's place. What he wouldn't give to hold her, touch her, kiss her. . . .

_Stop_. Julian jerked himself out of his thoughts, forcing himself to focus on his chores. The dinner guests would be arriving soon, and his charade would begin. Still, as he changed into a tuxedo for the evening meal, he couldn't help but long for and dream of a life where they could be together; a life where Emma Carstairs could be his.

**. . .**

Despite his attempts to calm himself before dinner, Julian was incredibly, unreasonably nervous. He knew how important this dinner was for the Carstairs family and he didn't want to ruin anything, if only for Emma's sake. She looked uncomfortable sitting at the table, surrounded by gossiping aristocrats, and Julian couldn't help but wonder what was on her mind. Her brown eyes kept darting to Jamie Rosales, who was sitting next to her, and Julian guessed that he was at least the partial source of her uneasiness. For some reason, that made Julian hate Jaime even more.

Julian stiffened as Jamie reached for her hand, then forcibly relaxed his posture as he stepped out of the shadows. It was only after he entered the room and began pouring wine for the guests that he noticed his hands shaking. He knew that if he failed to do anything perfectly, he and his family would suffer dearly. Already, he wasn't allowed to have regular contact with Helen, leaving him mostly in charge of raising their four younger siblings, and Julian lived in constant fear that he would do something to cause himself and Helen to lose their jobs.

He was able to pour the wine into John and Cordelia's glasses without trouble, but when he reached Emma, a disastrous turn of events occurred. While being distracted by his close proximity to Emma, he tipped the shaking wine bottle and completely missed her glass. Panicked, he lurched forward in an effort to save the linen tablecloth from being doused, and instead poured half of the bottle onto Emma's new dress.

Julian's heart stopped as he heard audible gasps from the dinner guests. "I- I- I'm so sorry, Miss Carstairs." He stammered out, hastening to correct his error. "It was an accident. I will fetch some cloths to clean up the mess, or…" He stopped as Emma blew out a breath, standing to her feet.

"It's quite alright, Mr. Blackthorn. My apologies, everyone, but I must excuse myself to change into more suitable clothing for dinner. Mr. Blackthorn, I will accompany you back to the servant's quarters to insure that you do not cause any more problems." Emma said with a sharp tone to her voice that Julian had never heard before. She stalked out of the room and Julian followed her, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Julian," Emma murmured, turning on him and looking up with earnest eyes. "I'm not angry with you. Not at all."

"W-What?" Julian gasped. "You aren't?"

"Julian, I could see your hands shaking." Emma soothed him. "You were obviously extremely nervous, and I can't hold that against you. Unfortunately, my parents will."

Julian buried his face in his hands. "I've really messed it up this time, haven't I? They're going to fire me and we'll have nowhere to go," he breathed, his throat constricting.

He was jerked out of his panic by Emma's small hand on his arm. "Jules, I won't let that happen. I promise. I know you have siblings to take care of, and I would never let them suffer like that."

Julian looked down into her dark eyes, really seeing her for the first time in years. Almost unintentionally, Emma reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder like she did when they were small. As she held him tightly, Julian's eyes filled with tears, his heart aching with a combination of fear, anger, longing, and deep sadness. Tears fell from his eyes without permission, falling onto Emma's neck while he buried his head in her hair.

Emma was crying audibly now, and Julian rubbed soft circles on her back in an effort to calm her. He wanted to hold her forever and protect her from whatever or whoever was making her feel this way. Most of all, he wanted to hold her like this every day without consequence, without fear, without worry. He wanted her so badly it was like a physical pain in his chest, and he wasn't sure how he could live with that for the rest of his life.

Eventually, they broke apart and Emma ran upstairs to dry her eyes and change clothes. Julian watched her go then retreated back to the servant's quarters, avoiding the rest of the staff and entering the rooms that he and his family shared. His presence was no longer required at dinner – Julian was sure of it.

"Jules!" Drusilla shouted from the adjacent room, running to greet her older brother. Julian hugged the thirteen-year-old gently.

"Hey, Dru." He said, tiredness in his voice. "Have you all eaten dinner yet?"

"Yes." Came an annoyed voice from the armchair by the lamp. Julian looked over to see Tiberius peering over his book. "Livia made us dinner."

"Where's Helen?" Julian asked, taking off his suitcoat and running his hands through his hair.

"She was called upstairs." Dru informed him. "Something about helping with dinner" Julian's heart sank. Helen being called upon to fix his mess was the worst thing that could've happened. Julian never wanted to burden his family with his failures, but despite his best intentions, he always seemed to fall short. What's worse was that sooner or later, Tiberius and Livia, the sixteen-year-old twins, would be asked to work for the Carstairs family as well. Both Helen and Julian desperately hoped that would not be the case, but Cordelia had deemed that Livia was pretty and young enough to be her personal maid, and John assumed Ty would be just as good of a footman as Julian used to be, which was a good joke to everyone that knew ornery, standoffish Ty. Julian knew that Tiberius, who was fiercely protective of and (though he'd never admit it) dependent on his twin, would never let them be split up, but they didn't have much of a choice.

Julian's hands were shaking again. "I'll be behind the house." He muttered, grabbing his worn jacket and sketchbook and quickly exiting the room. As he walked, he again ignored the stares of the servants. Sighing in relief as the cool night air ruffled his hair, he stood in the shadows and pulled a slim box from his pocket. His brothers and sisters (save Helen) didn't know he smoked, and Julian wanted to keep to that way.

Lighting a match, he inhaled the smoke and felt it calm his nerves almost instantly. He let his mind wander and, unsurprisingly so, his thoughts turned to Emma. He could still feel her arms around him, still hear her quiet sobs as she clung to him for comfort. He wondered what she was doing right now. Still suffering through dinner, no doubt.

He turned to a blank page in his sketchbook and began to draw, his cigarette hanging from his mouth as his pencil moved with lightening speed. The outline of a girl appeared, her long hair flowing over her shoulders and her dark eyes smoldering with defiance. Julian traced every angle of her face with careful precision, committing the lines to memory the only way he knew how. This was his Emma, before she was consumed by the pressures of her society, and he wanted to always see her that way in his mind.

"Mr. Blackthorn." Cordelia Carstairs' voice caused Julian to jump, crushing his cigarette with his boot. Closing his book and hiding it behind a woodpile, he stepped into the light.

"Yes, Mrs. Carstairs, how may I be of service?" He asked respectfully, bowing his head.

"I'm sure you know that Mr. Carstairs and I were less than impressed with the display at dinner tonight. I'm sure you can understand how important it was that you did your job, and what a strike against you it was that you failed to do it correctly." She said coldly. Julian ducked his head, heat rushing to his cheeks.

"I know. I'm sorry, ma'am." Cordelia looked slightly appeased but her expression was still firm.

"I would also like you to know that I see the way you look at my daughter. Your designs for her are ill-placed and will not be tolerated. I don't want to see you so much as look at her again. She is engaged to a man she loves very much, and you will do well to remember your place, Mr. Blackthorn." Julian bit back a retort about Emma's true feelings for Jamie and instead attempted to look contrite.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Cordelia sniffed.

"Make sure it doesn't." She said firmly. "If you are unable to control your feelings, perhaps you should look into alternate employment." She left that hanging in the air as she swept away, leaving Julian standing alone in the dark without the slightest clue as to how he was going to survive Emma's engagement.

* * *

_ Emma's POV_

The morning after the dinner party found Emma anxiously pacing her bedroom. She couldn't get the images of last night out of her mind and it was taking every ounce of her willpower to not run down to the servant's quarters to find Julian. She spent all of last night remembering his arms around her. She had felt more at home with him in that moment than she had ever felt with Jamie.

"Miss Emma?" Helen tapped on her door. Emma ceased her pacing.

"Come in." She said, tightness in her tone. Helen brushed in, holding three folded pieces of paper in her hand.

"I was asked to give you these. I'll be up soon to help you dress for the day." Helen's voice was guarded, but before Emma could ask, the older girl was gone. Emma turned the papers over in her hands before unfolding the first one.

_Emma,_

_I hope last night didn't upset you too much. Don't worry, my dear, I'll have your dress repaired soon. I have told Mr. Blackthorn that he is to stay away from you so that you can concentrate on your studies and your engagement without any more troubles. I will see you at supper._

_Affectionately,_

_Your mother_

Emma's heart sank. Julian was forbidden from seeing her? She knew that her parents' wrath on Julian would be great, but she didn't think he'd never be allowed to see her. She was going to have to change that.

The second note was wrinkling from Emma's warm hand and she carefully opened it. Her heart sank again as she saw Jamie's fancy script.

_My darling Emma,_

_Please allow me to make you my guest at dinner tomorrow evening with my family. I would very much like to see you again, (hopefully without the addition of a disaster like the one caused by your footman) and I do hope you'll attend._

_Yours,_

_Jamie Rosales_

Emma felt her face grow hot, and not in a good way. She was furious with Jamie for his snide comment about Julian, and yet she knew that she would be expected to go to dinner. She sighed, then opened the last note.

_Emma,_

_Your mother says I'm not allowed to speak to you any more, but I still want to see you. I know there is no reason for me asking this, but I'd really like to see you tonight. I know your mother and father will be gone tonight, so come to the servant's quarters at seven o'clock this evening. You can have supper with us and meet my family. If you don't wish to come, don't feel it's necessary. I just miss you._

_-Julian_

Emma's face inadvertently broke into a grin, even as she sat down to accept Jamie's invitation. She had never met Julian's family (except for Helen) and there was no way she was going to miss the opportunity to escape her watchful parents to be with Julian. Rather than waiting for Helen to come back, Emma dressed and readied herself for the day before running downstairs to send a note back to Jamie. She was unable to focus on her violin and dancing lessons all day, just counting the hours until she could see Julian.

******. . .**

At seven o'clock, Emma was waiting nervously near the entrance of the servant's quarters, playing with the folds of her dress. She was about to start pacing for the second time that day, but a familiar voice instantly calmed her nerves.

"Emma!" Julian exclaimed, smiling widely. "I didn't think you'd come." Emma touched his arm lightly.

"Of course I would." She assured him. Julian led the way through the servant's quarters, stopping at a thick oak door.

"This is where my family and I live. It's not much but it-" Emma cut him off.

"Jules, you're rambling." She told him with a smile. Julian's ears pinked adorably as he let himself and his guest into his family's quarters - three rooms connected by two doors. The room Emma and Julian had entered was furnished with a small dining room table and eight chairs. There were three armchairs by the window and a small bookshelf in the corner that was laden with books of all shapes and sizes. Emma thought the quarters were cozy, but she wondered how her mother possibly expected six children to live comfortably in such a small space.

"JULES!" A small body launched itself toward Julian, startling Emma and earning a smile from Julian.

"Octavian," Julian gently scolded the child in his arms. "Don't shout." The young boy looked down briefly in apology before noticing Emma.

"Who's she?" He asked, blinking at her. Emma noticed that he and Julian shared the same eyes - that intense green-blue color that made it look like their eyes glowed with a light of their own. It made the corners of her lips turn up in a small smile.

"This is my friend. Her name is Miss Emma Carstairs." Immediately Octavian straightened in Julian's arms, recognizing that this was the daughter of his brother's employer. Julian set him down at his insistence, and Octavian extended a hand to Emma.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Emma. I'm Octavian, but you can call me Tavvy if you want." Part of Emma was saddened by the sight of such a young boy already having to learn his "place". It reminded her of Julian when he was Octavian's age.

Emma bent so she and Octavian were eye-to-eye. "It's good to meet you, Octavian," she said, shaking his hand. "I'd really like it if you just called me Emma, though." Octavian flashed Emma a smile.

"Okay! Do you want to meet my brothers and sisters?" He bounced on his toes and Emma grinned at him.

"Alright." She acquiesced, following Octavian with a backward glance at Julian, who looked mostly relieved that his brother wasn't embarrassing him. Emma followed the boys into the bedroom, where three other childern sat on the floor hunched over books or needlework. The smallest girl of the group looked up, her sad eyes lightening as soon as she saw Julian.

"You're back early!" She exclaimed, jumping to her feet and hugging Julian. Julian smiled, planting an affectionate kiss on his little sister's hair.

"That's Dru," Octavian informed her. "She's thirteen. Ty and Livvy are the twins and they're sixteen. I'm eight." He finished with pride. The black-haired boy on the floor, Ty, was regarding Emma with a mixture of indifference and annoyance.

"Who are you?" He asked bluntly. Emma noticed with a start that he didn't have the same warm eyes as his family - his were steely grey, the color of a cloudy sky.

"I'm Emma." She responded, Ty's seeming anger towards her putting her on edge. His twin closed her book and approached Emma, her expression one of dutifulness and apology.

"I'm sorry about him, Miss Carstairs. He just doesn't understand people." Her body was tense as she spoke, and Emma guessed that she was used to defending her brother and facing consequences for doing so.

"It's alright. And I'd prefer it if you just called me Emma." She said in a effort to soothe the girl's nerves. "You must be Livia. My mother has spoken very highly of your needlework."

Livia blushed. "Thank you." She bowed her head. "I try my best."

"It shows." Emma complimented, feeling sad again that she couldn't talk to Julian's sister as if they were equals. "I never had patience for that sort of thing. I always preferred wandering the grounds with your brother!" To Emma's surprise, Livia cracked a smile.

"What's she doing here?" Ty asked, oblivious to the conversation. Julian sighed.

"She's here for dinner as my friend." _So be nice_, was his underlying message. Ty merely rolled his eyes, turning back to his book without so much as a word.

"Where's Helen?" Julian wondered. Emma saw Livia's expression fall again as she pulled Julian aside. Tavvy appeared to be entertaining himself by reading over Ty's shoulder, and Dru was looking at Emma shyly.

"Hello, Dru." Emma said softly, not wanting to scare the timid-looking girl.

"Hello, Miss- I mean Emma." Dru corrected herself hastily, her cheeks coloring. Emma noticed the needlepoint in Dru's hand.

"May I see?" She asked, holding out her hand. Dru nodded, handing it over. It was very simply done, yet beautiful - a list of names ringed with a green vine of delicate stitches. Emma knew instantly these were the names of her family members. Her eyes rested on a name that she didn't recognize.

"Who's Mark?" She asked. Instantly, Dru's eyes darkened. Emma regretted asking that question.

Octavian saw the expression on his sister's face and jumped in. "He's our older brother. He's away at work." Octavian explained, taking Dru's hand. "He's been gone a long time. He and Helen used to take care of us, but then he left and now Jules has to help instead, because Helen's never here." Emma's heart went out to the Blackthorns. She never knew they had suffered this much.

Julian silently appeared at Emma's side. "Let's go eat." He said softly, escorting Emma to the next room. His siblings followed him, sitting around a worn oak table in front of plates of cold chicken and green beans. Julian looked embarrassed that this was all he had to offer Emma, but she couldn't have been happier.

"The chicken is amazing!" Emma exclaimed around a mouthful. Julian grinned at her, a bit of his boyish charm peeking through his somber facade.

"It is really good," Livia agreed. "I learned how to season it yesterday, but I'm not very good." Julian looked warily at his food and Livia kicked him under the table. "Relax. I didn't make this chicken!" Emma laughed. She had always wished she could have siblings, and watching Julian's family just made her heart ache more.

"Do you want more, Memma?" Octavian asked, blinking up at her from his seat at her right. Emma looked at his plate.

"You know what I think…" She started, feinging thoughtfulness. "I think you're trying to get out of eating your vegetables." Indeed, the eight-year-old's plate was still halfway full.

"Tavvy, eat your food." Dru admonished in her soft voice. After a look from Julian, he picked up his fork and resumed, glowering at his plate all the way.

"Hello, everyone." Helen greeted tiredly, slipping in the door. Livia and Dru ran to their older sister while the boys and Emma remained seated. Julian brushed his hand over Emma's arm, an act that sent shivers up her spine.

_Can we talk alone?_ Julian mouthed. Emma nodded and the two teenagers excused themselves, ignoring the worried look they received from Livia. Julian led the way outside, and when they were safely away from prying eyes and ears, Julian seemed to visibly relax.

"Julian, what's going on?" Emma asked. Julian leaned up against the wall of the house, burying his head in his hands.

"Emma," his voice sounded plaintive. "I- you know I still think of you as my best friend, right?" Emma swallowed hard.

"Yes." She managed around the lump in her throat.

"I'm sorry, but I can't- I don't-" Emma rested a hand on Julian's shoulder.

"Take a breath, Jules." She coached in a soothing tone. "What's wrong?"

Julian sucked in a breath, his hands shaking. "I can't stay here anymore." Emma stared at Julian in shock. "Don't ask me why. Please don't." Emma couldn't stop her eyes from filling with tears.

"But where will you go?" Was the only thing Emma could think of to say. Julian pushed his hands through his paint-flecked hair.

"I'm going to enlist. We need soldiers to fight in the war, and I think I can help." He turned his face away from Emma. "I'm sorry."

Emma could think of nothing to say. Her heart hammered in her chest as a lone tear tracked down her cheek. She knew Julian had made up his mind and there was nothing she could do to dissuade him. "Just come back. For me." She whispered. Julian spun around, tears in his verdigris eyes, and crushed her to his chest in a hug. For the second time in 24 hours, they wept in each other's arms, and Emma knew this was the last time she could ever truly have her Julian.

* * *

_My Emma,_

_I never wanted to hurt you by leaving, but I fear that I'll be hurting myself and my family if I stay. I can't stand seeing you with Jamie - not when I love you so much that I can hardly stand it. I wish that I could turn back time and find a way for us to be together, but that is not to be. _

_Please don't worry about me. I promise I'll take care of myself. Just give me something to come home to, Emma. I know that you are unhappy with Jamie. I can see it in your eyes, though you would deny it to the grave. Just please find a way to be happy. I need you to be happy._

_I love you. I'm sorry I'll never get to say those words to you aloud. I'm sorry you'll never get to read these words. I'm sorry._

_Yours forever,_

_Julian_


End file.
